West Cali
by wolfismyhero
Summary: Callie and her uncle Wes are doing their best to stay hidden in a world of the undead. But then Callie goes into the city to save a stranger. Her life is about to turn upside down- again. With kidnappers, love triangles, rednecks, and her own screwed up past, Callie is ready to give up. Is there someone who can give her hope, and reason to live again? Rated M for language/lemons
1. Looking for a needle in a haystack

**I only own Wes and Callie. If I owned WD, I'd be married to Norman Reedus by now. Hope y'all like the new characters! **

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Chapter 1: Looking for a needle in a haystack

The world is a dark and dangerous place nowadays. The streets are lined with creatures that hunger for flesh. The few living are so terrified, most of them have lost their sanities. Each day is a fight for survival, and there aren't many who can win against hordes of the undead.

When all this began, I just couldn't believe it. I assumed the media was blowing things out of proportion, hoping to cause panic like they always do. But then my sister got sick. Her blood seemed to boil, making her skin scorching hot. She coughed up blood, unable to eat or drink anything. Towards the end, she had bouts of hysteria and hallucinations. Then, she died.

That wasn't the worst part though. The worst part was what happened after she got back up. My uncle Wes had to take her down. She did her best to get her pound of flesh, but fortunately for us, Wes was faster.

"Callie!" I heard Wes call out, shaking me from my reverie. "Find anythin'?"

I gave a frustrated sigh, blowing my blonde locks from my face. "Not yet. What about you?"

"Nah," he muttered as he made his way through the living room to the bathroom where I was. "Painkillers?" he asked hopefully.

I shook my head and he let out a disappointed grunt. Wes had been in the military for quite a while, and he had suffered with an injury to his knee. While he was able to run and fight on it, it stiffened up on him sometimes and gave him a great deal of discomfort.

I took in the sight of his face, with the long scar from his left temple down to his chin. It made the left side of his mouth curve down just the slightest amount and gave him a permanent stern and disapproving expression. His eyes were so dark brown they were almost black, and his blonde hair looked light brown with all the dirt and oil in it. His body was large and broad, evidence of his time working for Uncle Sam. All in all, his presentation was menacing.

He turned and left the room to finish rooting around the house. I continued my task, searching through random bathroom supplies, looking for something we could take with us. Whoever had owned this house had to have been a clean freak. There were at least fourteen different kinds of bathroom cleaners and rows upon rows of sponges.

I twisted, readying myself to turn and take my leave, when I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My blonde hair was no longer shiny and vibrant. I had chopped it off, getting rid of my waist-length hair so the undead wouldn't be able to use it to my disadvantage. It was choppy, shoulder-length, and unimpressive.

I'd always been a bit tan, thanks to my father's side of the family. My mother had offered up her slim frame. All in all, I knew I didn't look as bad as some of the women nowadays did. My face was heart shaped, my pale blue eyes were striking and still full of life, and I had earned some impressive muscles following Wes around like a shadow.

I made my way to the kitchen, ignoring the blood and brain matter splattered all over the walls of the living room. The people who had once owned this house had taken the easy way out and died on their own terms. I guess, in the end, it didn't matter if they were clean freaks or not.

Wes had gathered cans of food and was in the process of searching for bottled water. We dove through the endless supply of cabinets, until I opened one of the higher ones. "Jackpot," I muttered. Wes peered over and I moved my arms so he could see. There were several different types of liquor: bourbon, whiskey, tequila, rum. The list could continue on for miles.

Wes shot me a toothy grin. "There's my gerl!" I gave him a pleased smile and helped him unload the find onto the counter. "Jus' gotta load it up into tha truck."

We had parked the truck as close to the front door as we could get it, making sure it didn't also block us in. We snuck out the door, quietly loaded everything we had gathered, and headed back inside, always watching for the undead.

"Got enough daylight fer a quick shower, I reckon," Wes said, as we headed up the stairs. There had been two bathrooms with a shower in each one, and we were in desperate need for a thorough cleaning.

"I'll take this shower, Wes. You take the master's." He nodded and started to head down the hall.

"Five minutes," he called over his shoulder.

There was enough pressure built up for both of us to take quick showers. The hot water didn't work, but then again, I hadn't expected it to. I was just relieved to have the walkers' blood and all the dirt and grime washed off. I felt a few pounds lighter without all of it weighing me down.

As I scrubbed, my fingers lingered over various scars along my torso and arms. Memories suddenly overwhelmed me, phantom pains from injuries that happened long ago rocking my frame. My tears blended with the water cascading down my face. No, I had to forget. Remembering would get me killed. Those memories were nothing more than pitiful weaknesses. I had cast off that former version of myself and I'd be damned if it came back to haunt me.

I grabbed a pair of jeans that fit kinda loose around my hips and an old worn out T-shirt from the bedroom connected to the bathroom I was in. I knew Wes would be able to see through my act, even if he didn't comment on it, so I allowed myself a good thirty seconds to collect my thoughts. When I felt I was ready, I made my way from the bathroom.

Wes was already downstairs, wearing jeans and a white T-shirt I didn't recognize. Once we had gathered up our meager belongings, we stepped outside. Some of the undead were wandering about, drawn by the cooler air and promise of darkness. We don't know why the walkers like the night better than the day, but they're usually more active then. Although, if they see you standing in the sunlight, they won't hesitate to chase you down.

We hopped in the truck and took off before any of the undead could attack us and rip into our flesh. It would be dark soon, but Wes and I felt we were too close to the city. True, we were in suburbia-land outside of Atlanta, Georgia but we would have been more comfortable stranded out in the Rocky Mountains. Wes and I practically lived in the woods while I was growing up. I'd never been a picket fence kinda girl.

By unspoken agreement, Wes drove and I kept an eye out the passenger window, looking for signs of movement as we moved along. After a while, I couldn't see any more walkers and the light was quickly fading from the sky. Just as we always did, Wes pulled over and kept an eye out while I curled up and napped.

It was a light, fitful sleep, one full of rotting faces and snarling mouths eager to feed. I hadn't had a deep, peaceful slumber since before all this started. Too soon, Wes's hand was on my shoulder, shaking me awake.

"Alright, okay," I muttered, rubbing my hands over my face to wake myself up. "Go to sleep, Wes. I got it."

I climbed out of the truck and sat in the bed of the truck on the toolbox. Pulling out my hunting knife, I started quietly sharpening it, pausing every so often to listen intently. We were far enough from the city to not be in too much danger, although the walkers had started wandering recently. We were also pulled off the road enough to not be quite so noticeable. Wes and I had a system that worked for us.

I heard distant sounds of the undead, although most were a fair distance away. I had exceptional hearing, so I wasn't too concerned about one of the walkers sneaking up on me. I continued to sharpen my knife, watching the moonlight caress the blade as if it revered it.

A low groan caught my attention. I turned my head, the rest of my body frozen in place. A walker had stumbled out from between two cars. He lifted his nose into the air, drawing in deep breaths. Our scent must have drawn him. His eyes sought me out.

Once he caught sight of me, his body tensed and became driven by his base instinct: to feed. He let loose a snarl that raised the hairs on my arms. His speed increased the closer he got to the truck. A quick glance around revealed no other immediate threats so I knew I could take my time.

"Hey big boy," I murmured, standing up and jumping out of the back of the truck. The stench of his rotted flesh hit me full force and I almost stumbled. Shaking my head to clear it, I focused on the zombie before me.

He's been taken down by bites to his chest, it seemed. Half of his stomach was ripped out, his intestines flapping along his legs as he stumbled closer. He snarled and I could see bits of flesh caught in his teeth. His skin was gray and stained by the blood of his victims.

I held the knife loosely in my hand, twirling it around to keep my wrist relaxed. I didn't need a strong grip and tensed limbs to take down my opponent. I had been raised to know how to hunt and use weapons such as the one I held, unlike many of the poor bastards in the world today.

I kept a wary eye on his hands. Just one scratch could change my fate. I knew I would stab myself before I'd let the sickness take me. Hell, so would Wes. Love didn't trump survival in his mind.

The zombie lunged at me and I easily stepped to the side, blocking him and letting him run past me. He swung his head around, enraged that his prey was evading him. When he rushed at me again, I ducked under his outstretched arms. We continued this way for several minutes, almost like we were caught up in some intimate dance. His growls got louder and angrier, until Wes woke up and stepped out of the truck, keeping his distance as he watched.

Finally, Wes cleared his throat, my cue to wrap it up. As the walker lunged at me again, I grabbed his left wrist, using his momentum to jerk him around so I ended up behind him. Swiftly, before he had the chance to turn his head, I buried my knife to the hilt in his skull. His body slumped to the ground and I removed my weapon, wiping the blood and brain matter across the material of my jeans.

Wes and I moved to get back in the truck, not eager to face anymore of those things. One is alright, but I don't wanna sit down for lunch with a whole group. As soon as my fingers touched the door handle, I heard something the made me pause.

I frowned, turning to face the city. Wes paused and watched my face. I cocked my ear towards the tall buildings, waiting and listening. Then, I heard it again. Some poor bastard was screaming for help.

I looked over at Wes and knew he'd heard it too. "Ain't our problem," he murmured.

I turned towards the once great city of Atlanta. "There's someone in trouble, Wes."

He shrugged and grabbed the key, ready to turn it. "I ain't gonna hang myself jus' ta let some bastard walk free." He shook his head. "Won't trade my life fer anyone else." He continued to watch my face, seeing my conflict. "You won't either."

I stared at the city for a while longer. "Like hell I won't." I grabbed one of our rifles, my handgun, and a small amount of ammo out of the bed of the pickup. I already had my knife in the sheath at my waist. In my mind, I was fully prepared for my trip. Maybe I should've been more concerned with the hordes of undead walking around the city.

Wes sighed, leaning back in his seat. He didn't seem very surprised though. Maybe I was a bit too reckless for this world. "If you ain't back by nightfall, I'm leavin'." I just nodded and began my long walk down the highway.

I walked quietly, used to the hunts Wes would always take me on growing up. I didn't hear any walkers wandering around as I approached the city, which was both a relief and ridiculously unsettling. As I drew closer to the outskirts of Atlanta, the sky started to lighten. I quickened my pace. I had several hours to get there, help the guy, and get back to Wes, but you never know when things will go south. I'd rather not waste precious seconds.

I slipped past a few stray zombies, even though I had to use my knife when I turned a corner and a walker was suddenly right in my face. She went down quickly and quietly, but I knew I'd have to be more careful.

All the while, I listened for the guy who'd been shouting, but it seemed he wasn't trying to give me any clues as to where he was. I looked around at the buildings, spotting one across the street that was fairly taller than the others around it. I should be able to get a good bird's eye view from that roof. Maybe the person in trouble made a sign or something.

I crept across the street, trying to avoid detection and giving a wide berth to the store next to my destination. It was a department store, and looked like the undead had gone out of their way to rip into its front doors. They could be long gone by now, but one never knew.

I slipped through the doors, keeping as quiet as humanly possible. I could hear the shuffling of feet, but I figured I could get up the stairs while giving the zombies in the building the slip. As I reached the door that provides access to the roof, I decided that I deserved a freaking medal. The door was a bit noisy when I pushed it open, but I hadn't seen any walkers the whole way up the stairs, so I was hopeful none heard it.

I stepped onto the roof, immediately spotting a zombie who looked as if it was debating jumping off the building. I frowned, thinking it was unusual, but I turned and closed the door, glancing around for any others. It was just us up here.

I approached the walker slowly, holding my knife at the ready. The walker seemed to be reaching for something as it leaned over the wall that surrounded the rooftop. It hadn't even noticed me. Then I realized why.

"Help me, you sumbitches!" a man yelled. Glancing over, I realized he was on the roof of the department store next door. I grinned at my luck. Guess I wouldn't have to go searching for him. The man was on his knees, head bowed.

I stabbed the walker in the head while she was still focused on the other roof, and then shoved her over the wall. She splattered across the pavement. I wiped off my knife and stuck it back into my sheath.

There was a tiny bit of concrete that connected the two buildings. It would be frightening, but I was sure that I could make it across. I had the rifle strung across my back and it would have probably knocked anyone else off balance, but this was something I was used to. I almost felt incomplete without a knife at my side and a gun across my back.

I managed to inch across the concrete, the very edges of my sneakers hanging over the sides. I held my breath, almost as if breathing alone would send me tumbling to my death. All the while, I never gained the attention of the man. I made it to the other roof and stopped about five feet from him.

"Hey, sir? Are you in trouble?" I asked. I kept a hand on my knife's handle, uncertain if I should be worried about how dangerous he was.

The man's head snapped up at the sound of my voice. His eyes widened and he seemed to drink in the sight of me. His mouth formed an 'o' of surprise. "Are- are you really here?"

I looked down and noticed he was handcuffed to a large pipe. I crouched down and looked him in the eyes, being careful to stay out of arms reach. His pupils were dilated, and I knew he was on drugs. "First of all, that's kinky." I motioned to the handcuffs. "Looks like you got a winner there. Second of all, yes I'm really here. Third of all, seriously dude? You're skitzing? We're in the middle of the damn end of the world and you're on drugs. Very nice."

He squinted at me. "You can't be real. I imagined you." His eyes raked over me and a new gleam entered his eye. "But _damn, _I got a good imagination."

I rolled my eyes and sighed. "I probably just wasted a trip to Atlanta. Freaking ridiculous." I shook my head. "Okay, new subject. What did you do to end up chained to a pipe?"

His mood instantly soured. "Officer Friendly did this ta me. Left me up here ta die."

I raised a brow. "Your girlfriend is a cop? Or a stripper dressed as a cop? I'm thinking option number two."

He shook his head, frustrated. "Some new guy. Met up with my group and chained me up here. Then they left."

"Still didn't answer my question. Why were you chained up here in the first place? What did you do?"

He looked pissed. "Who said I did anythin'? Damn women, always blamin' a man…" he muttered, continuing to grumble to himself.

I shrugged, unconcerned. "I only got a couple hours to spare. You wanna be free? Make sure you use that time wisely. I may be the only one who can get you out of here."

He scoffed. "Merle always gets himself out of a jam, sugar tits. Don't you worry 'bout that."

I frowned. I'd only known of one man my entire life named Merle, and he'd been from Georgia too. But there was no way this could have been him… I decided to test him, to figure out if my hunch was correct.

"You seem kinda tough." He raised a brow. "I can tell you were born in the south. You got that look, plus the accent. It's hard to miss." He shrugged, not seeing where I was going. "But your kinda tough is usually learned after living in the south. Military?"

His eyes narrowed. "Yeah, why?"

I feigned innocence. "No reason, just making small talk. You ever stationed overseas?"

His frown grew. "Yeah. Boot camp was Parris Island. Why do you wanna know?"

I cocked my head. "You ever met Sergeant Baker?"

Merle frowned, either in confusion or because he was trying to remember. I saw wheels turning in his head and simply sat back and waited. Finally, the light bulb clicked on. "Baker! That sumbitch and I went ta boot camp together. You know him?"

I smiled. "Uncle Wes used to ramble on about you."

He was grinning so big, his face looked like it would split in two. "Damn, he and I used ta get into a hell of a lotta trouble. I 'member back when we was both privates, our drill sergeant was a real bastard. Slipped itching powder to his body powder." He laughed, one of those laughs that start somewhere deep in the belly. "That man was a faggot."

I chuckled along with him, having heard the story before. "So, Mr. Merle Dixon…" He wiped his eyes as he looked over at me. "What did you do to get yourself in this situation?"

He sighed. "Shot the gun a couple times. Beat the shit out of some nigger in our group. Hit in the head when my back was turned."

I sighed. Wes had always said Merle was a loose cannon. "You're crazy, you know that right?" He merely grinned in response. I made my way over to some tools scattered on the ground several feet from Merle. A handsaw caught my eye and I picked it up. As I straightened, I looked up and caught the gaze of a walker on the other side of the door.

Merle saw where my attention was focused. "Don't worry, sugar tits," he called out. "That door is chained closed. At least there's one thing the nigger's good for, even if he dropped the damn key. Those bastards can see, smell, and hear us, but they don't stand a chance of gobblin' us up."

I went back over to Merle, falling to my knees so I was level with him. "Let's try this, shall we?" I began sawing away at the chain, but after about thirty minutes, I had to admit it wouldn't work. The saw was too dull and the chain on the handcuffs was too strong.

I found a hammer and tried breaking it apart. That didn't work either, and I threw the tool to the ground in frustration. "Dammit!"

Merle was laying on the ground, hiding his face in the shade from the pipe. "Gotta come up with somethin' else gerly."

I gritted my teeth in response and began pacing. "We need to come up with something, I know. We need something like… bolt cutters!" I scrambled to the tool bag and began rifling through it, but came up empty handed. "Shit!"

Merle was looking at his hand. "Could always cut it…" he muttered.

I turned to him. "Cut what?"

"Cut it off." At my confused expression, he explained. "My hand. Cut the hand off. Like a coyote chews off its leg."

My eyes widened and my jaw dropped. "What? Are you freaking insane?"

He sat up and fumbled with his belt, finally yanking it from the loops. "For the tourniquet." I shook my head and backed away. He sighed and fastened the belt around his forearm by himself. Then he picked up the handsaw. "You gonna look, or be a girl?"

I felt nauseous. Sure, I'd skinned my own kills since I was eight years old. Sure, I took down disgusting, rotting corpses every single day. But I had never harmed a human being, or seen someone harm himself. I clenched my teeth against the rising bile. He lifted the handsaw to his wrist, and my only thought was: _Oh God, here comes lunch… _

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**Okay, as you can probably tell from my other story as well as this one, I don't like throwing Merle out into the world to screw things up. I hope I've been able to make this seem logical and well written. Callie won't be like other characters I've created. She's a little more messed up, but we'll get into that as the story progresses. Let me know what y'all think, reviews always welcome! If you've read or reviewed on my other story, you know I like to respond to everything people say. I really do appreciate your criticism and ideas.**


	2. God damn kidnappers

**Only own Callie and Wes. I really wish I'd met Norman Reedus. Or a real life Daryl Dixon. He's seriously the hottest guy on television. Love that man! Shout out to the rednecks!**

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Chapter 2: God damn kidnappers

Merle raised the handsaw and placed it against his wrist. The tourniquet had already cut off the blood running to his hand, so I wasn't too awful worried about him bleeding out, as long as we found a way to cauterize the stump.

I almost gagged at the thought. I couldn't imagine losing my right hand, especially having to cut it off myself. There was no way I could ever do something like that to myself.

Merle took a deep breath and his grip tightened on the saw. I couldn't even look away…

On the other side of the door, we heard something that blessedly made Merle pause. The walkers at the door were pulling away and turning around, trying to face some new object of fascination. Their snarls grew louder and more eager.

"Is there someone in there?" I whispered to Merle. He just shrugged. There were soon sounds of zombie heads being crushed in single blows and bodies falling down the stairs. Then, it was silent.

I stepped closer to the door, placing myself in front of Merle, the hammer in my hand. The chain rattled as someone fumbled with it, then there was a snap and the chain was pulled away.

"Merle!" A man shouted as he burst through the door. I moved away once Merle responded with, "Yo, lil' brother!"

The man was holding some bolt cutters and he wasted no time in freeing his brother. I could tell they were related, although Merle was an ugly sumbitch and the new guy had a few more points in the attractive column. He had bright blue eyes that stood out against his pale skin while Merle's weren't nearly so shocking. Both of the Dixons wore shirts with the sleeves cut off and a pair of raggedy jeans.

More people piled through the door and I edged away, holding the hammer and keeping my other hand close to my knife. There was a young Korean guy, a guy dressed as a cop, and a black man who looked like he'd been through a beating.

"Hey gerly, get your tight ass back over here."

I moved towards Merle, watching the others as if they were predators and I was cornered prey. All eyes were on me as if I was an alien with two heads.

"Lil' brother, meet Callie. Remember Wes Baker? She's his niece. Callie, this is my brother Daryl." Daryl and I nodded to each other as our eyes swept over each other. He had a knife at his waist and was holding a crossbow and bolt cutters. I knew he noticed the rifle strapped across my chest, as well as my knife and the hammer, but I didn't know if he realized there was another gun shoved into the waistband of my jeans.

"Let me guess," I said. "That's Officer Friendly?"

Merle grinned. "Yeah it is. The bastard who chained me up to this God damn roof."

The man didn't look pleased. "You know I had no choice, Merle. You'd have gotten us killed." He looked over at me. "My name is Rick Grimes." I just nodded.

"This is T-Dog," Merle supplied. "The nigger who dropped the damn key."

T-Dog was gritting his teeth, making his swollen jaw stand out more. "I chained the door. I came back."

Merle shrugged. "Don't matter if you did. You're the reason I was left up here."

The Korean guy introduced himself. "I'm Glenn. Nice to meet you."

I looked around. "Well, it's been great, but now I gotta go."

Merle frowned. "Where ya runnin' off to, gerly? You can't just run around the streets of Atlanta. Not all alone."

I held his gaze for a minute. "Who says I'm alone?"

His brows drew together before his eyes lit up. "Wes is here?"

I merely shrugged, then moved to head through the door and down the stairs. Rick stepped in front of me and my grip tightened on the hammer in warning. He held up his hands in surrender. "Look, Merle is right. You can't just go off on your own. At least come with us until you get out of the city. We've got a group, and we have weapons."

"At least we will," Glenn corrected.

I looked around at the men before me. "Not that I don't appreciate the offer, 'cause I do, but I'm okay. I don't need anybody else. I've survived this long, must mean I'm good for something."

Daryl was watching me intently. "It'd be easier."

Merle slapped me on the back. "Come on gerly, at least let me see Wes again."

I frowned, knowing he would convince Wes. I finally sighed and nodded, making everyone else look relieved. Except for Daryl. He just kept watching me out of the corner of his eye.

I moved away from the others once they started planning and talking about going after a bag of guns. I figured they hadn't involved me for a reason, and I didn't need to get caught up in a suicide mission. I hadn't lived this long by being stupid.

Glenn walked over once it seemed like they were done with their plan. Daryl and Merle were whispering to each other and Rick and T-Dog were picking up all the tools and putting them in a bag. I'd already given up the hammer.

"So it looks like you'll be in the alley with Merle and Daryl, and Rick and T-Dog will be down the street, waiting."

I looked over at him. "Do you have a death wish? Because this is stupid."

He stared at me for a few seconds. "No one else will do it. And we need those guns."

"One of these days, your quick feet and generosity will get you killed. Or worse." He merely blinked in response. I would have bet money- if it was still worth something more than tinder to start fires- that he'd already come to that conclusion and accepted it.

Rick approached us. "You both ready?" Glenn nodded and I shrugged. I'd be with the Dixon brothers, and I knew that if things went south, they'd tell me to bolt.

We went down the stairs quietly, listening for the classic moans of the undead. We split up and went to our assigned destinations. Glenn looked nervous.

"Hey," I whispered as the brothers glanced around. Glenn turned to me. "If things go bad…" I handed him my handgun. He stared down at it for a long moment as if it was an alien object that would turn and bite him at the first possible chance.

"Thanks." I shrugged.

We gathered near the mouth of the alley, careful to stay behind the dumpster. Glenn took a deep breath, gripped the gun until his knuckles turned white, and sprinted out into the street. Daryl kept his crossbow up and aimed at the street, targeting various walkers in case they got too close to Glenn. Merle and I were crouched behind the dumpster, waiting and holding our silent weapons.

My ears perked up when I heard footsteps hurrying down the alley towards us. Merle caught my eye and I knew he heard it too. I held the knife loosely, waiting until they were almost to the dumpster. At the same time, Merle and I jumped out.

It was a Hispanic kid, about nineteen or so. "Whoa, don't hurt me!" he yelled.

"Shut up!" Merle hissed. "Who are you?"

The kid started yelling, shouting until his voice echoed off the walls. Merle, Daryl, and I all rushed forward in an attempt to hold him still and keep him quiet. We didn't even notice his friends coming up behind us.

I felt a bat to my head before I even knew they were there. I dropped my knife, staggering from the pain even as I twisted around to confront my attacker. There were three guys, and they used bats to bring us down. I fell to my knees and one of the guys kicked me in the stomach, and I fell to my side. The assault didn't let up as he continued to kick me again and again.

Glenn sprinted back into the alley in time to see me coughing up blood. "Run!" I hissed out. He froze in place.

The guys all turned. "There it is! The bag of guns!" They hit Glenn a couple times and managed to wrench the bag away. I saw Daryl raise his crossbow. The arrow pierced one of the guys in the ass, making him scream like a girl. If I wasn't in such extreme pain myself, I would have laughed.

I wrapped an arm around my stomach and struggled to sit up. One of the guys grabbed Glenn and they dragged him out of the alley to a car that pulled up with a screech of tires. "Bastards!" I screamed as Daryl started yelling his own protests. He pulled on the fence to block the walkers.

Rick and T-Dog showed up just then. "What happened?" Rick demanded, cutting off Daryl as he leapt at the kid.

"I'm gonna kick yer nuts into yer throat!" he threatened. "I'm gonna stomp yer face!"

Merle was blocked from getting to the kid by T-Dog, who just looked confused as hell. "Why don't you ask the asshole over there?" I growled as I bent to pick up my knife, moaning in the process as my body was wracked with pain.

Rick looked around. "Where's Glenn?"

Merle looked about ready to spit fire as he wiped blood from his forehead before it could cloud his vision. "Rico Suave here called a couple of his buddies. They snatched the chinaman."

I pointed at the bag. "They were after the guns."

The walkers started gathering at the fence and Rick looked nervous. "Come on, let's get out of here and figure out a plan."

We got out of the alley, to a room that was in a safe part of the building. I glanced nervously up at the sky. I still had a few hours until Wes would leave, but I was getting antsy. If Glenn hadn't been taken, I wouldn't have bothered to stay. But the bastards were going to regret coming after me. Merle shot me a look as I stared at the sun, calculating what time it was. I met his gaze before looking away.

"Where are they?" Rick demanded of the kid.

"I ain't tellin' you nothin'!" he spat back.

"Where the hell is our friend?" I yelled, getting impatient. The kid started muttering in Spanish. I wasn't fluent, but I had paid enough attention in high school to get the gist of it. I punched him in the jaw.

Rick and T-Dog pulled me away from him. "What the hell was that for?" T-Dog demanded.

"I heard something about a whore," was my only response.

"Stupid ass spic and his homies jumped us," Daryl growled as he paced. "Took Glenn. Would've taken the guns too, if they could've."

Merle angrily wiped more blood away from his eyes. "Damn border jumpers," he muttered. "Ain't got no right to take what's ours."

The kid glared. "They weren't your guns!"

Rick took a deep, calming breath. "This isn't working."

I pulled out my hunting knife and studied it. "I guess it's time for plan B." I walked over to the chair the kid was sitting in. In one lightning fast movement, I stabbed the knife into the wood millimeters from his crotch. He yelped and tried to jerk back. I placed my hands on the arms of the chair and bent down to get in his face, trapping him. "Don't screw with me," I hissed. "I want to know where those men are, and you're going to tell me. Now."

He trembled before me, looking as if he was about to piss his pants.

Once again, Rick pulled me away from him. I took my knife with me. The former cop crouched down, hoping to look like he was on the kid's side. "They took our friend. We just want to get him back. Maybe we can work something out."

About 20 minutes later, we were sitting outside of what looked like an abandoned building. "They really here?" Merle demanded.

The kid glared at him. "Yeah, they're here. Y'all ain't gonna get too far though, punto."

Rick was pulling a rifle out of the bag for T-Dog. He checked the scope and handed it over. "You gonna be okay?" T-dog nodded, although he still looked uncertain. I was holding my own rifle, well aware of the plan.

T-Dog and I would climb up on part of the building, using the height to our advantage. Rick and Daryl would go with the kid to the double doors to make the exchange. Merle was going to come with me and T-Dog, hopefully finding a way inside and to Glenn. He was the only one with military training, and we all hoped to hell he'd be able to use it.

"They better be inside," Daryl said in a warning tone. "Or I'm gonna shoot an arrow into yer ass."

The kid snorted. "Yeah, and G is gonna take that arrow and shove it up yours."

Rick frowned. "G?"

"Boss man."

I went with T-Dog and Merle around the side of the building, where we climbed up and settled into position. T-Dog and I looked through our scopes and watched as Rick and Daryl followed the kid to the double doors. Before they'd even opened, Merle was already halfway to that part of the roof.

A man stepped out, and two goonies followed. One was one of the guys who'd attacked us, the one Daryl shot in the ass. We couldn't hear what was being said, but based on body language, the exchange wasn't going to go down.

Rick glanced up at us, showing the leader that he had extra eyes. The man turned, looking unimpressed. "Come on man," I heard T-Dog mutter. "Just make the exchange. Please."

I kept the gun aimed on the boss man, as the kid had put it. He talked a bit more, then pointed up. I pulled away from the scope to glance up. "Shit." Two more guys were up on the roof with a man who was bound with a sack over his head. They yanked it off to reveal a scared looking Glenn. "Double shit."

Merle crept up behind the two guys, careful not to attack while Glenn was so close to the edge. While "G" wasn't looking, I broke position and took off toward Merle, crouching low. The whole plan was about to go to shit.

Merle attacked one guy and while the other turned, I was there in time to slam the butt of my rifle into his temple. It knocked him out almost instantly, and Merle didn't waste any time freeing Glenn. G yelled something in Spanish, and we could hear chaos down below. The door to the roof slammed open and we turned to sprint the way we came, dragging Glenn along with us.

I was tackled before we made it halfway. Merle slowed to a stop. "Go!" I yelled, knowing Glenn was in no shape to fight to free me. Merle nodded and hurried away. It took three guys to restrain me enough for a fourth to bind me, and even then it was a struggle. Wes hadn't raised a sissy.

I glanced at the sky again, cursing under my breath. In a couple of hours, the light would be fading. Wes would make good on his promise. If I didn't get to him by then, I knew I'd never see him again.

The men dragged me down several flights of stairs until we were standing before G and the rest of my group. G's whole group had guns raised at them, but I knew Rick and the others couldn't afford a shootout.

"That was quite the show," G said as he studied me. "But you're not as fast as my boys."

I kept my expression blank. "Just because they're fast doesn't mean they're smart. Sooner or later, I'll escape. And I'll slit everyone's throats as they sleep."

His brows rose. "Bloodthirsty, hm?"

I shrugged. "Let me go and it won't come to that."

I'd always been good at poker, so I knew he couldn't see through my bluff. Even Wes had never figured out my tell. I'd always been a good liar.

G turned to Rick. "You willing to die for this girl, ese? Hand over the guns."

Rick gave a humorless chuckle. "You see, now I can't do that. Because these are my guns. Give us the girl and we'll walk away." I realized they'd already tossed the kid back to his guys. I was the only thing keeping them here.

"Felipe!" an old voice called out. I turned, catching sight of an elderly woman. She weaved through the crowd of men. "Felipe!"

She went up to the man who'd been shot by Daryl. "Get grandma outta the line of fire!" Daryl shouted.

Merle was shifting his weight, oddly uncomfortable. "Look, I don't off old people. Get her outta here."

"Felipe, take her to the back," G said. The woman murmured in Spanish, saying something about a man needing medicine. "Go take care of it!"

"Come on abuela," Felipe said, his voice taking on a different tone as he talked to his grandmother.

She caught sight of all of us. "Who are these people? Why are they here?" She saw Rick. "Don't you take my Felipe. He's a good boy." She glanced over at me. "Mijo! Why is she tied up?"

"They were trying to free me," I told the woman. G glared at me. "Do you know where any scissors are?"

She smiled and touched my elbow, ushering me to follow her. "Yes, come, come. I will take you to the others." I met Rick's eye as I turned and he nodded his approval. G reluctantly let us go.

She led us through a courtyard to another building. As we walked down the hall, we looked around and saw old people everywhere. I exchanged glances with Rick. We had not expected this. We stopped in a larger room, in front of a wheezing man. Felipe went to him with an inhaler and helped him.

Rick looked pissed. "Can I have a word?" They stepped off to the side, talking in hushed tones, as Felipe's grandmother brought me a pair of scissors. Felipe cut me free. It was one of the weirdest situations I'd ever been in, and that's saying a lot.

We followed G to a room down another hall, away from all the elderly people. He explained to us that most of the younger people there were the children and grandchildren of the residents of the former nursing home. The older generations weren't fit enough to travel, so the group of men and women stayed there to protect and care for them.

"Most of the people we've come across are the worst kind. Thieves. Plunderers. We didn't know you were any different. We've had to protect what's left of our resources."

T-Dog looked contemplative. "I guess the world's gone to shit."

"No," G cut in. "The world is the same. The weak get taken. So we do what we can." It was sad, thinking of all these people stranded here by age and weakness. "The vatos go out and scavenge what they can. We watch the perimeter night and day, and we wait. The people here all look to me now. I don't even know why."

I had new respect for G. He'd had to deal with a shit storm, but he was protecting those who couldn't take care of themselves. I no longer held a grudge for anything that had happened.

Rick seemed to agree with me. "Because they can," he said. He handed over his shotgun. He unzipped the bag and pulled out a few more guns and quite a bit of ammo. I even handed over the handgun Glenn had returned to me.

By the time we were leaving the city, it was starting to get dark. I was practically running in my eagerness to get to Wes. "Hold yer horses gerly," Merle murmured. "We'll get to him. He wouldn't leave you behind."

I shot Merle a look. "The end of the world changed him. He doesn't risk his neck for anybody, not even me. I don't blame him."

Daryl frowned over at me. "But you came to the city to save Merle. You didn't even know him."

"And you saved me," Glenn added.

Rick was nodding. "You've been a great asset, and I think you and your uncle would be good additions to our group."

I shrugged off their praise. "Doesn't matter unless we get there before he leaves. If he's gone, I'll do whatever I can to find him." I met Rick's gaze. "And nobody finds Wes when he wants to stay lost."

They all sped up, sensing my urgency. We piled into the van the others had driven to the outskirts of Atlanta. My stomach was in knots, and I could only cross my fingers and pray Wes had broken his word for once in his life, and stayed after dark.

**..**

**Tell me Callie ain't a badass! I love her. Now, who thinks she'll get to Wes in time? Who thinks he's gone for good? Tell me what you guys think and what you want to happen. R&R please! I'd love feedback. I've been thinking about this story quite a while, so I finally just had to upload it. Hopefully I'll be able to continue my other story soon. Check it out if ya want! :) Much love to you all!**


	3. From the frying pan to the fire

**Only own Callie and Wes. Hey guys, it's been a while! Sorry it took so long but I've had a LOT of stuff going on. Anywho, hope you like the new chapter. Don't forget to R&R! :)**

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Chapter 3: From the frying pan to the fire

As we got closer to the area where I had left Wes, I felt my stomach curl and flip as my heart edged up my throat. We drove to the point where I could see the truck, and hope blossomed in my chest.

"He stayed," I murmured, unaware I'd spoken out loud. I saw T-Dog and Glenn share grins out of the corner of my eye.

As soon as the van stopped, I hopped out. I walked around the truck, eager to see my uncle's face. But when I saw the open door, all hope I'd felt died instantly. My shoulders slumped and I slowed to a stop.

Merle followed me out of the van. "Told ya gerly! I knew he wouldn't leave ya." He stopped when he saw the empty cab, frowning.

"He's gone," I muttered, hearing the hopelessness in my own voice. My hands suddenly clenched into fists as I was filled with rage. "I should have listened to him." My voice shook. "He told me to leave you, to ignore your screams for help. But I was weak. It's _my _fault we got separated. I shouldn't have tried to be a damn hero!"

Merle edged away as I kicked the truck, bruising my knuckles as I swung my fists for all I was worth. I let loose a scream of rage that had all the guys cringing and glancing around for the undead. When the adrenaline finally left my body, I fell to my knees in despair. "I'll never see him again," I whispered.

Rick crouched beside me. "I'm very sorry we kept you from your uncle. If we hadn't asked for your help, then you'd be with him right now. I blame myself for that, for letting Glenn get taken. But right now, we need to go. The walkers probably heard you, and we're still too close to the city…"

"No. I'm going to look for him. Screw y'all."

T-Dog stepped forward. "We don't have time for this. The walkers will be here soon, and we need to get back to camp."

I gave him a sharp look. "You don't have _time _for this? Are you kidding me, you asshole! I was up on that roof, with G in my sights, same as you. I followed Merle across that damn roof to free Glenn, which got my ass caught too. Don't tell me you don't have the God damn time!"

He held his hands up in surrender. "Sorry, sorry."

Glenn was poking his head inside the truck. "He left you a note."

I stood up and stumbled over to snatch the note from his hands.

_Cal, _it read. _Stay low. Good luck. Wes._

Glenn was reading it over my shoulder. "That's it? 'Stay low' and 'good luck'? He could have told you of a meeting place or something, right?"

I shook my head. "He's protecting us both. If this got into the wrong hands, no one would know where he went. And they'd only know the other person as 'Cal,' which sounds more like a man's name than a woman's. They wouldn't know where to look for me, and there's no hope of them finding him." I studied his writing before I let out a sigh. "No one can find him."

Rick gave me a pat on the back. I cleared my throat and turned to examine the truck. He hadn't left anything in the back, but he'd left me a few supplies in the cab. He filled a backpack with bottles of water, a couple cans of food, my sweater, the stone to sharpen my knife, some ammo for my rifle and the handgun I'd given up, a picture, and one of the unopened bottles of whiskey we'd found.

"Thank you, Uncle Wes," I muttered. After a quick glance through the glove box, I found the keys to the truck. "He must have taken another vehicle. Now I just gotta figure out which way he went."

Glenn blocked me. "You should come with us. At least for tonight."

I studied him. "Why? I went to Atlanta to save Merle. I stayed to save you. Y'all are both safe. Job's done. Now I have to find my uncle."

"We'll help you," Rick threw in. "You just gotta let us come up with a game plan."

I shook my head. "Wes wouldn't want you sticking your necks out for him. And there's no telling where he's going to go or how long I'll be searching for him. You have a group. Families. Go back to them, and let me find mine."

T-Dog was frowning. "I wouldn't feel right, sending you off on your own."

I shrugged. "I'm a tough girl, I can handle it."

Daryl was biting his thumbnail and Merle started scratching his head. "Wes was one of my closest friends," the older Dixon muttered. "If you give me 'til tomorrow mornin' to pack my stuff and get ready, I'll come with you."

Daryl glanced sharply at him. "You ain't leavin' me behind! I'll come too."

I bit my lip. "If we wait too long, the trail will go cold. Then it'll be certain I won't see him again."

Daryl looked back at me. "We won't let him get away. Merle and me can find anyone."

I sighed. "Fine. But I'm leaving at first light, with or without you two."

We heard growls and moans coming from the shadows around us. "Let's get outta here," Rick said before he bolted to the van. Glenn hopped into the truck with me to help guide me back to their camp while the rest of the guys went with Rick. We pulled away just as the first walker slammed its hands against the tailgate.

We drove without the headlights, using the light from the moon and Glenn's memory of the path to get us there. I was a bit nervous as we got closer to our destination. It wasn't all that far from Atlanta. I bet in the morning, I would be able to see the city. And now that there wasn't a good food supply in Atlanta anymore, the undead would be drifting to the surrounding areas. This couldn't be safe.

I voiced my concerns to Glenn. "It's pretty safe," he tried to assure me. "Shane set up trip wires, with cans attached. Walkers couldn't get past all that. We also keep our fires low and build up rocks around them to keep the glow from the fire hidden."

I frowned as I took all this in. The things he said only made me more anxious to stay away. It sounded like a death trap. "Who's Shane?"

"He was our leader, before Rick came along. Apparently, they were best friends before all this. They were both cops. Shane protected us and provided for us, but he's kind of stepped down since Rick came into the picture."

I wondered if Shane would have some ill feelings toward the new leader. Rick had just shown up and dethroned him. It was an attack to any man's pride. I decided to keep an eye on the two men, in case a fight or something broke out.

I pulled to a stop behind the van, but was careful to leave enough room for a quick turn around and escape. I even left the keys stuck in the ignition. There were people gathered around fires that, although there were plenty of rocks stacked up, still cast a glow that could be seen by any walker passing by. The people's laughter and talking could also draw some unwanted dinner guests. I kept my hand on my knife handle and a wary eye on the shadows and trees around us.

The others were oblivious to my tension. Rick went to a woman and boy and gathered them in his arms. T-Dog approached a man with white hair and a beard with the bag of tools and the bag of guns. Since I'd given up my handgun, I would have to talk to Rick about replacing it. I didn't need their ammo, but I would need something else to protect myself.

Glenn and both of the Dixons went to one of the campfires and started loading their plates with fish. Cautious, I followed them.

"Fish?" I questioned as I glanced over Glenn's shoulder at his plate.

He grinned. "They said Andrea and Amy were fishing today." When I merely blinked in response, he explained further. "There's a rock quarry, just through those trees. It's convenient."

A black woman stood and made her way over to us. "Help yourself, honey. There's more than enough. I'm Jacqui." I introduced myself. "The boys pick you up in Atlanta?"

"Something like that."

She smiled as she noticed my hesitation to reveal much about myself. "Well, you're welcome here. Just be thankful you came to us when we had a good supply of food. Usually, it's squirrel and beans." Her smile easily slid into a smirk. "And that gets old after a while."

"Didn't hear you complainin' when I was out there gettin' them squirrels!" Daryl threw in as he shoveled fish into his mouth.

I raised a brow at him. "You hunt?"

"What you think this bow is for?" he responded.

I grabbed a plate and eased a couple fish onto it. There was a space to sit next to Jacqui, but I stayed standing, uncertain if I was welcome to the seat. She saw me look over and patted the log next to her. I shot her a small smile as I sat down.

As I ate, I felt someone staring at me. I glanced up and met the gaze of a tall, dark haired man with a large nose that looked like it had been broken several times. We stared at each other for an immeasurable amount of time, sizing each other up.

"I see you've noticed our new companion," Rick said as he too grabbed a plate of food. "This is Callie. Callie, this is Shane." He proceeded to give me the names of the entire group around us. There were more people seated further away, but he didn't give me their names and I didn't care enough to ask. I'd be gone in a few hours.

"You from Atlanta?" Shane asked.

I didn't answer. There was something about the man I didn't trust. He had a gleam in his eye that made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. My instincts were screaming at me to not trust him, and to get away as soon as possible.

The woman named Lori spoke up next. "Is that where you ran into my husband?"

I turned to her. There was something off about her as well, but I didn't see her as being dangerous. "I ran into Merle first."

Carol was the next to speak. "Did you save him? Help him escape from that roof?"

I shrugged, uncomfortable with the attention I was receiving. Wes had told me to stay low. I didn't want these people knowing anything about me. "Tried to."

She frowned. "Tried to?"

"The damn handcuffs wouldn't break," Merle drawled. "I thought about cuttin' off my hand, but the boys got there in time." He ruffled Daryl's hair and the younger brother shoved him away.

Carl, Rick's boy, wrinkled his nose. "That would've hurt!"

I stood and tossed my empty plate over to the pile of dishes. I thought about eating another fish, but I didn't want to be greedy. "Where are you going?" Rick asked.

"The truck. I'm gonna go ahead and sleep so I can leave in the morning."

Shane frowned. "You're not staying?"

"No."

I gave Rick a warning glance, asking him not to reveal much about me. He nodded slightly and I turned and walked away from the circle of people around the fire. Rick told them a bit about the walkers that had appeared from the shadows, making it necessary for us all to leave together. He said I'd had no intention of staying, that I just needed someone to watch my back for the night. I could feel Shane's gaze on me the entire walk to the truck.

I got into the cab, rolled the windows down an inch so I'd be able to hear everything, locked the doors, and laid down across the seat. I didn't sleep, but I listened to the laughter and light talk coming from the group.

They thought they were safe in this little haven they had created. I'll admit, if there were better defenses set up, this place would be the perfect spot to live. They had a water source close by, shelter from the weather, game they could hunt, and a city close enough that they could send out scouting parties. It was a pretty sweet deal, for the most part.

But sooner or later, the undead would find them. They'd set up trip wires as their only defense. They had no fences or blockades of any sort. Walkers would end up leaving the city. And although the group thought they were careful enough, they were just sitting ducks. All their talking and laughing and fires at night would serve as the dinner bell. They were beacons flashing in the dark.

I heard someone walking close to the truck. Ever the cautious one, I waited until they passed before I allowed myself to peek over the dashboard. It was a walker. Glancing around, I caught sight of a couple more stumbling through the trees. If the group was quiet, they would have heard them too.

The girl named Amy was walking towards the RV, completely unaware of the danger around her. I thought about honking the horn, but that would draw more walkers in the area, if they weren't already drawn by the talking and light.

I checked to make sure the doors were locked again before I turned on my headlights. A couple of people around the fire held up their hands, surprised by the bright light. They turned to look over at me and I turned off the lights so they'd be able to see better. Mouths dropped open in shock.

A walker noticed me in the truck and slammed against the driver's side door, eager to get to me. I grabbed my knife, backpack, and rifle. Then I slid over to the passenger's side. After checking for any walkers too close to the door, I opened it and leaped out.

Moans and screams filled the campsite. Amy scrambled away from the open door of the RV and I saw her bolt to the back of it as a walker leaped in after her. Chaos erupted around me. "I hate when I'm right," I muttered under my breath.

I went for the RV, knowing Amy wouldn't be able to really protect herself, especially in close quarters. I hated the thought of being trapped, but I went against my instincts and jumped up the steps into the vehicle.

Amy had locked herself in the bathroom but the door was flimsy. Any minute now, the walker would bust it open. "Hey, you filthy parasite!" I called out.

The walker turned slowly, allowing me to take in all the little details. It was a tall male zombie with part of his face bitten off and the typical gray, decomposing flesh. He snarled and for a moment I was frozen in fear. If he so much as scratched me, I'd be just like him in less than a day. The odds were kind of stacked against me.

Then I felt steely determination overcome my body. I would kill this walker, and any others I could get my hands on, until it was my turn to join them. He took a couple steps towards me and I closed the distance. After ducking under his arms, I tripped him. While he was still on the ground trying to flip over and get up, I stabbed my knife deep into his skull.

I cleaned off my knife as I turned towards the bathroom, keeping a wary eye towards the front of the RV. "Amy! Were you bit? Answer me, the walker's dead!"

"N-no! He didn't touch me!"

"Stay in there! I'm going to go help the others." I dragged the zombie towards the door, tossing him outside before I leapt out.

Rick and Shane both had guns and they had Carol, Sophia, Lori, and Carl between them. They were edging their way back to the RV. Jim and Morales were running around with bats, taking out the walkers that weren't in groups. Dale, Glenn, T-Dog, and Daryl were using rifles and shotguns to take out the majority. Merle had gotten his hands on a handgun and was going to town. There were walkers everywhere.

One walker came stumbling up to me and I used my rifle to knock her down and bash her skull in. I looked up and saw a walker between Rick and Shane and the RV. Without hesitation, I lifted the rifle and took aim. The walker's head exploded, startling the children. They screamed and moved closer to their moms.

"Rick, Shane!" They glanced over. "The RV is clean. Amy is in the bathroom, safe. Get your family in there and we can protect it easier. I'll tell the others." The group turned and ran to the RV, eager to protect the women and children.

"Glenn!" I yelled as I got closer. "Protect the Winnebago. T-Dog, go to the RV!" They listened to me without the slightest hesitation. "Dale, head to the RV." He nodded.

The camp was still chaotic. Merle was hysterical as he shot the undead, laughing as if it was a carnival game. Daryl was in full rage mode, attacking with hatred written all over his face. I couldn't see Jim or Morales, but I could hear them beating those things with their bats.

I gathered Morales's family and Jacqui and ushered them to the RV. Just as I was about to turn around and go get the Dixons, something grabbed me. Without thinking about it, I turned to dead weight. As we both fell, I twisted my body around to ease from the grip of my attacker. She held on tight.

I lost my rifle in the fall and couldn't reach for it because the zombie was snapping at my throat. I kept her pushed away as we rolled around, each trying to gain the advantage. I tried to keep an eye out for other walkers, knowing that if a second one joined our little wrestling match, I'd be done for.

"Callie!" I heard someone shout. I was on top of the zombie, but I was losing my grip on her arm. She was ready to scratch me and pull me closer.

"Shoot her!" I yelled to no one in particular. "Kill the bitch!"

I heard a _twang, _and then the zombie had an arrow through her temple. As soon as she relaxed, I scrambled off of her. "Holy shit, that was close," I mumbled. I looked up at Daryl. His blue eyes were concerned and intense.

"You alright?"

I nodded and reached a hand up just as he reached out his own hand. I smirked as he pulled me to my feet. "Thanks. Nice hunting." He returned my smirk. I picked up my rifle and glanced around.

There were bodies everywhere, both walker and human alike. I felt saddened for the people who had died, but I was also pissed off. Everyone here had lived in their own fantasy land, pretending that they were safe from the fucked up world around us. There was no such thing as safe anymore, not really. Just safer.

"Straight from the frying pan," Daryl muttered as we looked around at the damage.

"And into the fire," I whispered in response.

**..**

**So more craziness. Woohoo! Hopefully Callie will be able to take care of business and find her uncle. Please R&R with any thoughts or random comments. I need your opinions like I need air! haha but seriously, I love getting reviews. Thanks for reading!**


	4. Shaky alliances and rocky decisions

**Only own OCs. Sad face. I'd love to meet Norman Reedus though ;) if you don't know who that is, you are NOT a true fan of WD. Just saying. Enjoy chapter 4!**

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**Chapter 4: Shaky Alliances and Rocky Decisions**

Silence permeated the air, the eerie calm following a brutal storm. Bodies surrounded me and blood coated the ground. I stood next to Daryl, taking in the carnage with a sense of hopelessness. He and I didn't speak as we each came to terms with his group's fate and what it meant for the future.

Rick looked shaken but determined. "Are you two alright? No bites?" he asked us. We shook our heads, although that close call I had could have changed our answers, had Daryl been even a second later. I had a new appreciation for his skills with a crossbow.

T-Dog looked ready to pass out. "How in the hell were there so many?" he yelled to no one in particular.

I don't know what possessed me to answer, especially considering my desire to lay low like my uncle had warned me. "Maybe if y'all hadn't lit so many fires, or talked and laughed so God damn loud, they wouldn't have even known you were here."

Shane looked outraged. "We took precautions, and they'd never attacked like that before! How in the hell do we know that they didn't follow _you _here?"

I raised a brow, aware that I was being a bitch. I couldn't find it in myself to care. "Oh really? They just followed the breadcrumbs I tossed down, is that it? They've attacked before, have they not?" I took his silent glare as a yes. "Exactly. The cities are running dry. The undead are traveling for food. I knew it was a bad idea to come with y'all, especially once I realized how close it was to the city and how y'all acted at night."

I pointed a finger at Rick. "I should have never let you convince me to come back to camp." I turned to Glenn. "I should never have tried to save you from those spics." I looked over at Merle. "And I should never have answered your scream for help."

I gripped my rifle in my fist as I turned to stalk to the truck. I fully intended on leaving them behind so I could search for my uncle, regardless of the noise we had all just made. I'd be lucky if Atlanta's undead residents didn't pour from the streets to follow the sounds of screams and gunshots.

Dale was actually the one to step in my way. "Wait, please."

I shifted my grip on the rifle, holding it so the barrel was lowered to the ground, but in a position so I could easily aim and fire. "Dale, move. I'm leaving now."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Please."

The survivors of the camp were tense as they watched our exchange, both fascinated and mortified by the idea of me attacking one of their own. I gritted my teeth as he stared at me pleadingly. "I don't belong here Dale. I know it, you know it, everyone knows it. Let me go."

Amy joined his ranks, still breathless and shaky. "Please Callie. Don't leave yet."

I glanced back and forth between them, wondering why they wanted me to stay.

Shane snorted. "Let her leave. We don't need her. She's nothing but trouble." He began the chore of separating and piling the bodies, quickly joined by some of the other men.

Rick looked over at me. "We'd appreciate it if you stayed." Then he went to help. Glenn sent me a small smile as he walked away.

Lori studied me. "I think it's best if you listen to Shane and go."

I snorted condescendingly. "I don't need your approval or your acceptance, princess. Your opinion would never sway my mind either way."

Her jaw dropped before she sent me a glare that should've sent me straight to my grave. To annoy her further, and feeling like a little kid in the process, I mimicked shivering in fear. She stomped off. I rolled my eyes.

"Have it your way old man," I told Dale. "I'll stay to help. But like I told the Dixons, I'm leaving to find my uncle." He sent me a victorious smile and I shook my head.

I kept away from Lori and Shane while I worked, choosing Dale and Glenn as company instead. The other women weren't doing too much to help with the bodies, but they were gathering all of the supplies and were loading them into the vehicles.

Daryl, Morales, and Jim were going around making sure all of the bodies would never get back up by either stabbing them in the heads or bashing their skulls in. I helped by dragging those bodies to two separate piles. One pile was for those who had been a part of the group. The other was for the walkers who had come to kill them.

I dropped the legs of a particularly large walker, groaning as I straightened. Glenn huffed and wiped his face, wincing in discomfort. "Man, these guys are heavy," he complained.

I grinned. "Maybe they should lay off the potato chips, hm?" He chuckled at my sarcasm, earning the both of us a glare from Shane. I glared back before Glenn and I turned to keep working.

I lost track of how many we moved or how long we worked, but before I knew it, the sky had started to lighten. I moved to stand where I could see the city and would eventually see the sun peak over the buildings.

I thought about Wes, knowing that if I didn't leave right this second, he was lost to me forever. Even then, my chances of finding him were slim to none. Merle moved to stand next to me, watching as the sun finally made its appearance. Then I felt his gaze turn to me.

I wanted to cry, because I knew I wouldn't leave. Every fiber of my being longed to be with Wes again, the last of my family. But I couldn't abandon these people. I gritted my teeth as I battled the emotion. After a moment, I pushed it away to some far corner of my mind, locking it away.

"I thought you were leavin' at first light," the redneck muttered.

"If I left, how long would these people survive?"

He turned to face the city once more, probably thinking about the massacre last night. "So what'll you do?"

I sighed. "Wes is gone. I have to accept that. I'm still going to look out for myself, but I'm not going to abandon anyone."

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Merle nod. "There's my gerl," I thought I heard him whisper. He walked away before I could ask.

After another lingering glance at the sun and the city, I turned to resume helping the others. It wasn't long before the quiet was broken again.

"It got him!" I heard someone shout. I craned my neck so I could see who it was. Jacqui. "A walker bit Jim!"

I was immediately with the others who formed a circle around him. "I'm okay," he kept repeating. I watched Rick's reaction. He was shocked, but I could see the wheels turning in his head.

"This is madness!" I shouted at him. His glazed eyes found me. "You know what will happen. What always happens. He was bitten. He must be put down." The Dixons obviously agreed with me. I was surprised to find Shane on my side about this.

"There's no other way, man. Callie's right about Jim." He glanced at me when he said that, probably hoping I didn't get too cozy to the thought of him agreeing with me. "We gotta do it."

There was a lot of arguing over it. Some felt that Jim would die anyway, so why shouldn't he get a quick death that would also keep everyone else safe? Others wouldn't hear of it, claiming we'd be murdering a human, and that would cause us to lose our connection to the world we once knew.

"I am protecting my own skin," I finally stated. "Either Jim meets his end before we leave, or I leave alone. I won't die because you're not enough of a man to do what you have to. You can't be scared in this world, Rick. You and your family. That's all that matters. Didn't you go through hell to get them back?"

He looked torn and I softened my tone. "What happens if he turns on the drive? What if Carl was in the car with him? Lori? Or would you be okay risking the others' lives? Shane? Amy? Dale? Glenn? Daryl? Who are you willing to lose?"

He rubbed his temple. "I won't kill a man," he whispered hoarsely. "Not unless I _have _to." Carl looked concerned and Lori gently rubbed Rick's shoulder.

I sighed. "Then don't make it be your decision," I stated simply. "Put it to vote." He looked alarmed but I was already moving to stand in front of the others. "Make it your choice!" I said to them all. "What do you want? Jim to live, only to die in a few hours? Or do you want to end the threat now?"

"Who votes that Jim lives?" Shane asked everyone, using his best cop voice. We decided not to let the kids vote. They were too young to be a part of this.

Dale, Andrea, Lori, Rick, Carol, Jacqui, and Jim raised their hands. There were seven votes to spare his life.

"Who votes that he dies?"

Daryl, Merle, Shane, T-Dog, Morales, and Amy all raised their hands to join my own uplifted hand. And there were seven votes to end Jim's life.

We all turned to Glenn. "You can't be serious," he moaned.

"You're the tiebreaker, man," Shane said as he shrugged. "It's up to you now."

Glenn began to panic. "You can't put something like that on me! I can't decide a man's fate! How do I know if he should live or die? I don't want that responsibility. I can't vote."

I sighed. "I think you just did. Eight votes for Jim's life. Seven votes against. For now, he lives."

Shane snorted, tossing down his shovel. "It's a mistake!" he called over his shoulder as he stalked away.

I did my best to stay away from Jim, using the others in the group to keep us separated. I knew it was callous and selfish on my part, but if Jim turned before we got in the vehicles, he'd attack others and it would give me more time to prepare myself.

Andrea approached me. "Thank you, for saving Amy."

I shrugged and continued my task of taking inventory from the newly uninhabited tents. "It wasn't something that anyone else wouldn't have done."

She shifted her weight. "You were brave. You helped her, when no one else tried to."

I thought back to the night before. "Where were you, by the way?" Andrea froze. "I saw you before the attack, during dinner, but after that, nothing."

Andrea's eyes filled with tears and I immediately became uncomfortable. I was a girl, but I'd never been girly. I was practically a man on the inside, something Wes had worked hard to achieve over the years. I didn't ever feel comfortable expressing emotions, especially crying.

She turned without answering me. I hadn't really needed an answer, but her refusal to speak about where she'd been piqued my curiosity. Ah well. There would be another day for answers.

Rick was walking around, making sure certain things were getting done so we could be on our way soon. "What were you able to gather?" he asked me once he reached my side.

"Bottled water, knives, sleeping bags, clothes, pillows…" I trailed off and gestured to the pile. "Name it, and it's there."

He studied my find. "We need to get something on the fire before we decide where to go. We'll need our strength." He called Carol and Lori over and they began sorting through the canned food I'd gathered. Lori shot me a dirty look as she worked, but didn't say anything. Rick glanced between us, sensing the animosity.

I moved away, surprising myself when I stopped near Shane. "Where do you think we're going to go now?" I asked.

Surprise sparked in Shane's eyes as he glanced over at me. "Rick'll want to go to the CDC. To save Jim."

I met his gaze. "And where do you suggest? To save the rest of us?"

Surprise crossed his features again as he realized I was on his side about Rick's leadership skills. I believed Rick was a fantastic leader, but these days, you couldn't be the hero who saved every lost soul. "Fort Benning would be our best bet. We could set up defenses, see if any military survived."

I nodded thoughtfully. "And the others? Will they side with Rick?"

He shrugged. "Probably. Most wanted to see Jim saved too, ya know?"

I studied Shane. He seemed to genuinely want to protect the group as a whole. Rick did too, but he also valued every life around him. Shane didn't. If there was a stray who would threaten his pack, Shane would cut them loose. Rick took in strays as if he was running a charity house.

Shane studied me right back, and I wondered what he was thinking. I knew he'd originally thought that I was threatening them and their way of life, but if he was honest with himself, he'd realize that I was just trying to help.

Now that Wes was gone, there was honestly nothing for me to lose. I could throw myself into anything without a backwards glance. There's nothing better than having someone like that on your side. They could be indestructible in hard times.

We parted ways after coming to some unspoken agreement to have a tentative alliance. We worked for the same goal, so we were no longer enemies. More like friendly rivals. We were both too hardheaded to admit defeat, so we wouldn't submit to one another. At best, we'd become allies.

I saw Rick approach Shane, although I couldn't hear their conversation. I joined Amy and Glenn who were sitting on a log and rested before we heard the final decision. If we decided on the CDC, then Jim would remain alive. At least until the disease killed him. If we went to Fort Benning, we'd either abandon the man or take care of the problem ourselves.

The rest of the group eventually gathered around, watching the two men as they argued. Our fate as a group rested in their hands. When Rick began walking towards us, we all tensed in anticipation.

"We're heading to the CDC," Rick declared. Shane was running a hand through his hair but stood beside his best friend. Although he didn't agree, he was showing his support.

Our eyes met. I knew he could see my hesitation in following them. I could see his reluctance to go along with it. Sighing, I got up and made my way to the truck, giving Jim a wide berth as I passed. From the look on his face, he wouldn't make it halfway.

This would be interesting.

**..**

**So, there's another chapter for my loyal fans :) Thanks for sticking by me through my writer's block. If you've got any of your own suggestions for the story, send em to me. I'd love to hear your thoughts on what I've done so far. There will be more revealing moments of Callie's past, just bear with me. Send me reviews please! I can't live without em!**


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